


Alighieri Ink

by Naroen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Consent is Sexy, First Time, I've managed to lose the plot in the porn, M/M, POV Lucifer, Semi-Public Sex, Stanford Era, Tattoo Artist Lucifer, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6067570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naroen/pseuds/Naroen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Sam Winchester walked into Luke Milton's tattoo shop was a Monday afternoon. At least that's the way Luke tells the story, since Sam cannot for the life of him remember that first moment.</p><p>The second time Sam Winchester walked into Luke Milton's tattoo shop was a Monday evening, and they were both soon to realize they'll remember it for the rest of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alighieri Ink

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while, so I had to get serious help in the process: [On the night (live)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9VCThKS37o)  
> Betaed by myself because I'm a bad person and I suck at scheduling – please feel free to point out any remaining mistakes! I might have muddled around with Sam's age a bit.
> 
> Written for the [2016 Sam Winchester Big Bang](http://samwinchesterbigbang.tumblr.com/). This literally wouldn't have happened without 2blueshoes' gorgeous art – Endless thanks! :)
> 
> Art masterpost: [LJ](http://2blueshoes.livejournal.com/26991.html) [Ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6061108)
> 
> Drop me a note at [tumblr](http://daredreamingakf.tumblr.com).

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/Becha/media/marycolor%20500_zpsln7bniwt.jpg.html)

The first time Sam Winchester walked into Luke Milton's tattoo shop was a Monday afternoon. At least that's the way Luke tells the story, since Sam cannot for the life of him remember that first moment. He had been lonely, overcaffeinated almost to the point of irresponsibility, and it had been less than 24 hours since he'd ditched his family on the side of the road to claim his spot at Stanford.

“Hello and welcome to Alighieri Ink, how may I help you?” Luke called from his receptionist desk, undercover as a regular employee for the day since he didn't have any appointments scheduled. For some reason, people hated getting ink done on Mondays, preferring to sign up for his weekend spots. Sometimes he wondered if there was even a good enough reason to stay open the whole week through.

Looking up from his magazine – all the way up to the top of the boy's slightly disheveled retro haircut, curly around his ears – he thought that maybe, maybe there was a reason for it after all.

“Wow, you're good with your Italian pronunciation,” was, funny enough, the first thing he heard the kid say.

Luke narrowed his eyes, letting a smirk rise up to his eyes as the kid – with those legs, one of the longest pairs he'd even seen on a human – walked closer to him. “You think I'd name my studio 'Alighieri' and not be able to say it right?”

“Uh, I didn't realize it was your studio, sorry,” the kid replied, looking at Luke with a spark of true interest for the first time since he came in.

“'Tis fine,” Luke shrugged, biting off the kid at the end of the sentence. No use insulting customers when they first come into the shop, is there? He adjusted his black t-shirt and slid off the bar stool, extending his hand across the counter. “I'm Luke, nice to meet you.”

“I'm Sam, uh, thanks,” the kid answered and smiled for once. He took Luke's hand without even a hint of reluctance, recovering from his initial shyness. His grip was firm and his skin warm, dry and not in the least soft, calloused around the edges. How's a college kid get callouses more appropriate for some of the truck drivers that often wandered into Luke's shop as walk-ins?

As Sam held Luke's hand for a fragment of a second longer than customary when meeting a complete stranger, Luke noticed the kid's eyes slide up his bare arms, no doubt searching for tattoos. This time he kept the smirk to himself, but he couldn't resist poking. “Not all of us wear our ink in visible places, Sam,” he said gently, taking his hand back gently enough not to insult the boy.

Sam tensed up and relaxed in basically the same instant, finally settling on a small laugh. “Yeah, I wasn't really sure what to expect, sorry. I've never been around tattooists – uh, tattoo artists – much.”

“No worries,” Luke smiled and took the opportunity to make a small turn in front of the kid, arms stretched out, like a rock star. Judging by the way this Sam kid's gaze was slow to climb back to Luke's face after his small show, he wasn't even that far off the mark, showing his body in front of him. “This your first time?” Luke winked, standing straight once more, facing his brand new ink virgin.

“It's that easy to tell, huh?” Sam smiled, his eyes settling on Luke's. Luke smiled back. “I was wondering if I could make an appointment for a – a tattoo.”

“Sure,” Luke said, easily striding back to the reception desk. “What were you thinking about getting?” He reached below his drawing desk to take out the flash books, feeling his voice falling into the familiar, comfortable business tone. “A rose, a heart?” He sized the boy up again and tilted his head slightly to the side. “Your girlfriend's name and a coupla' swallows?”

The kid frowned under Luke's barely concealed, although well-meant mockery. “Actually, I was hoping you could help me with this one,” he said and reached in his back pocket, dragging out a crumpled photo, folded over many times and worn soft with age. This time, he stopped mid-move for a fraction of a second, like he was thinking it through again, so Luke gently reached out and took the photo from Sam's fingers.

“May I?” He looked up as he carefully opened the fold. The kid stood still for just a second longer, and than he nodded, revealing nothing else. Luke took in the photo of a young, cute-looking blond woman in one glance, stopping only when he realized it must have been old, really old, since no woman of her looks would wear her hair like that nowadays. It was too… seventies. “Is this your mother in college?”

Sam shot him a quick glance and Luke made sure his face betrayed nothing. People didn't always respond well to his natural need – urge – to pry, but something in this kid drove him further, some need to know, need to understand, to find out what made the kid tick. He wouldn't be the first college kid to get a tattoo for his mom, not in the least, but he was one of a few Luke had ever seen to be so solemn about it.

“She's… she wasn't in college, but yeah. That was my mom.”

Luke closed his eyes for a second, inwardly cursing his stupid urges and even worse manners. “I'm sorry, Sam. It's not my place.” Before he could embarrass himself and his business even further, he mentally took on the cloak of a hard working professional and glanced at the photo again. “You want to have her portrait in your skin?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Sam answered and defensively shoved his hands in the pockets of this clean, but obviously not new jeans. “I've seen the stuff you do, the traditional tattoos? I was thinking if you could maybe do a girl who resembles her, it doesn't have to be her, just… enough to remind me that, um.”

“To remind you that...?” Luke asked after a second of silence and then bit his own lip from the inside, hard. Not his place. Dammit, he'd said so not a minute ago.

“To remind me she didn't die for nothing,” said the kid, and Luke felt his insides go cold. Their gaze locked for the first time and Luke couldn't help but stare into the boy's greenish-brownish eyes, almost completely hidden by his overgrown bangs, way, way calmer than any boy's eyes should be when talking about their dead mother.

“Sure,” Luke swallowed, hard, for a second feeling overwhelmed by the need to reach up and soften the bangs away from the kid's forehead, to offer warmth and comfort as best as he could. But this was a customer. A future customer. Not some random guy he'd picked up at a bar. Hell, maybe he wasn't even… “Just to be sure, I'll have to see your ID, sorry. Can't help you if you're under eighteen. No hard feelings.”

“No problem,” the kid answered and swiftly produced a wallet and a sincerely-looking ID card.

Luke checked it – Winchester, like the rifle – and gave it back, reminding himself once more that this was business, not pleasure, despite what his groin was starting to tell him, the longer he kept looking at the kid and his reserved silence. “Looks fine to me. Where did you want the tattoo?”

“I was thinking on the side of the chest?” Sam raised his right arm to his left shoulder. “But if you think another place would work better, it's fine with me. As long as it's not – you know, on my arm or neck or something.”

Luke laughed softly, using his own amusement to cover up the realization (that, under different circumstances, might have even ended up leaving his mouth) that he can't be sure to suggest a good spot if he didn't see the kid naked first. “Your chest should be okay,” he said distractedly and looked down at the photo once more. “Do you mind if I include other elements, flowers maybe? She seems to have been a rose type of woman,” he said.

Luckily, even though that was not strictly a considerate thing to say about some kid's dead mother, or about someone's dead anyone, Sam didn't seem to mind his choice of words. “I honestly don't know,” he answered. “But I think, um, I think that would work well. I like the way you do flowers,” he added as an afterthought, nodding slightly in the direction of one of Luke's flash sheets hanging on the wall, close to the counter.

“Thanks,” Luke replied automatically. It was always easier when customers just let him do his thing, although he didn't survive for years in the job by doing just what he liked. “That will make the tattoo a bit bigger, though, hope that's not a problem for you? People often have trouble with their first piece, trying to make it smaller than it should rightfully be. You don't strike me as the type to go small,” he offered, testing the waters, just in case.

“Money's not an issue,” the kid said firmly, casually ignoring – or completely missing – Luke’s half-assed attempt at innuendo. Something in Luke's chest bubbled.

“It's not about the money, Sam,” he said, proud of the way he managed to say the name without revealing too much, just like it was any other customer – not a customer he would very much like to become something more, maybe – or less, depending at how you took it. To Luke, sex was always more. “The bigger the drawing, the clearer the detail. Better the chance for it to stay sharp and clear for years. Also, the stronger the pain,” he added, carefully observing his new – future – customer's reaction. “You ready to take that chance?”

Possibly the biggest surprise of the day – after the whole of Sam so far – was when the kid outright laughed, straight into Luke's face. “Pain is really not a problem for me,” he said, shaded eyes still smiling even as the laughter subsided. He paused for a moment, as if thinking about his next words. “I'm not sure I would even go for it were it not for the pain,” he said eventually.

“Pain is good,” Luke heard himself say. Professional, dammit! “If it was easy to get ink, a lot more people would do it. With giving it even less thought than they do as it is.”

Sam smiled softly and waited.

It took Luke longer than he'd ever admit to realize the kid was done talking, after which he hastily settled the photo down on the counter. “I can have the first sketches ready by seven tonight?” he said. “If you can come back around that time, we can try and settle on a date. If you like a sketch, of course. I will have the price estimate at that point, too – can't do much about it until I see the size and the color. You want color? I do black, too. And color.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, not really showing it even if he noticed the way Luke had started babbling. “Like I said, money's really not a problem,” he added once more, and Luke briefly wondered how come a kid at nineteen years of age – a bit on the younger side, but not really out of Luke's interest range – with messy haircut and old jeans can say that and truly mean it.

“Tattoos ain't cheap… Sam.”

“I know,” the kid shrugged. “And I mean it. If I like it… So, can you photocopy the photo or something?” he looked eagerly at Luke.

“I don't exactly have a photocopy machine laying around here, Sam.” The kid followed Luke's gaze around the slightly cramped shop, as if noticing its lack of size for the first time, the way the counter was turned to look directly at the shop's front windows with its name in bright neon. “I'm going to have to hold on to the photo for a couple of hours. So, unless you want to grab something to eat or drink and make yourself comfortable on the couch...” Luke nodded in the general direction of the shop's waiting area sofa, a hideous red thing, tucked in one corner, that he somehow couldn't make himself get rid of.

“No, it's fine,” Sam said, obviously resigned to part from his cherished memory for a few hours. “You'll take good care of it, right?” he added anyway, looking Luke straight into his eyes.

“I always do,” Luke answered frankly.

“Good.” Having nothing more to say at the moment, the kid looked around the shop once more and nodded to himself. “I'll be back around seven, then,” he said, smiled once more at Luke and turned to leave.

Luke just stood there, unable to remember what he was supposed to do next, still slightly out of phase due to the kid's parting smile and the distracting way his broad back moved while he was walking.

“You know…” the boy called from the doorstep, bringing Luke out of his daze, “I don't actually have a girlfriend.”

“I've somehow figured out as much myself,” Luke said, his turn to smile.

Sam nodded, smiled one last time and finally, thank goodness, closed the door behind him, leaving Luke to his own, stupidly horny misery.

*

The second time Sam Winchester walked into Luke Milton's tattoo shop was a Monday evening, and they were both soon to realize they'll remember it for the rest of their lives.

Truth be told, Luke didn’t even realize the kid had returned, since he was completely wrapped in the details of the sketch he’d been on the verge of finishing for the better part of the past hour.

By the time the prickling feeling on his neck told him there was a slight possibility he wasn’t alone in the shop anymore, he’d somehow managed to incorporate a sketch of a swallow beneath the girl’s hair, too – somewhere around where her left shoulder would have been, if it were a full-body drawing – he was thinking maybe blue or greenish color for the bird?

When someone discreetly cleared their throat just behind his back, Luke turned around so abruptly that he also managed to crumple the paper underneath his fist, send a few of his pencils falling all over the floor and almost fall from the bar stool he’d forgotten to switch for the more comfortable working chair in the process of, well, working.

“Hi,” the kid – Winchester, like the rifle – said softly, his hands hidden in the baggy pockets and his feet restless where he was standing in the middle of Luke’s shop.

“How long have you been here?” Luke asked, having finally found his voice in the face of those damn legs and soft hair that had somehow grown even more disheveled – and hot – in the past few hours.

“You really do take your job seriously, don’t you?” the kid answered with a small smirk, turning Luke’s own game against him. He should work on his professional attitude more. It’s not like he’s new to this job, exactly. He sees hot people in the shop – cute, half naked hot people, sometimes more than half – on a day to day basis. Though, none of them could exactly match the kid in height, at least none Luke was able to recall at that particular moment. Nor in the expanse of his shoulders. Luke’s reaction was totally normal. Everybody would... “Sorry, yeah,” he answered at last, realizing that the kid had actually expected a reply. Luke rubbed his chin with his left hand, at the same time trying to stretch his right hand fingers to force them back into their natural, non-pencil-holding state. “Long day. I'm usually able to tell when someone's standing right behind me.” He really could use a shave, if only he didn’t hate the cheap disposable razors he used on his customers’ skin before transferring the designs, the only kind he had in the shop.

“What, a lot of people came in after I’d been here earlier?” Sam wondered, sounding a bit less certain of himself. Luke felt a surge of affection for the kid – his brand new virgin, he remembered fondly – but maybe it was just the exhaustion talking. He made a mental note to do more drawing, less flash work in the future if he had any intention of keeping his skills in good shape.

“Not really,” Luke replied and stretched his arms above his head in a moment of inspiration. Sam seemed to be at a loss of words for a second, and this time he was the one whose gaze lingered inappropriately in the general area well below Luke’s eyes, the polite spot to look at on a stranger's body. Score. “So, if you’d like, I’ll show you the sketch and then we’ll see about the rest?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam managed to say, but Luke was glad to see that his gaze didn’t exactly return to its previous focus on Luke’s face. Feeling a bit warmer and infinitely more awake than a few moments earlier, Luke snatched the sketch from the table, smoothing it out in one discreet move. “Does this look anything like what you had in mind?” He let the paper rest on the desk between them.

The kid stilled almost imperceptibly, his gaze fixed on the girl on the paper. Luke couldn’t bring himself to look at the drawing again – he’d been staring at various parts of it for hours, after all - but the kid’s silent stillness suddenly commanded his whole attention. The thing was that, through the years, Luke had become somewhat good at reading people, not just to make his own job easier, but also to help him in, well, other pursuits.

Which is why he noticed Sam become even more reserved as he reached out with his left hand to touch the sketch, almost reverently. As he turned the paper around just a tiny bit, to get a better look at the bird that wasn’t even supposed to be there, but that Luke couldn’t bring himself to erase once he’d seen how nice it fit, his fingers started trembling a little. He didn't lift them from the paper.

“Wild roses?” Sam asked after a while, his voice curiously stripped of inflection.

“Yeah,” Luke answered, suddenly feeling restless. “I can switch them to something else, if you'd like, it was just… I've done hundreds of roses in my time. Thousands. No two are ever the same. And people seem to think that there's only one way to do roses properly, or they'd… I don't know, lose their great artistic mastery or whatever. Become something else.” He finally caught a grip on himself, realized he'd started – and continued – to babble again while his future customer remained curiously silent. “So, what do you think?”

Sam looked up and slowly, minutely, let a grin consume his face. “I think we should talk dates.”

Luke answered with a grin of his own.

A few minutes of schedule-checking and price negotiation (which consisted of Sam confidently agreeing to everything apart from a Monday appointment that Luke did his best to sneak into the deal – weekend it is!) lead to a new entry in Luke's mostly loose, but more than profitable appointment list. More importantly, the negotioations resulted in Sam's cell number written neatly in Luke's script on a piece of paper attached to the sketch.

All said and done, Luke was curious to notice that the kid didn't exactly show signs of wanting to leave the shop as soon as possible, maybe go brag to his friends about the date he got to lose his ink virginity. No girlfriend, Luke slowly reminded himself.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Luke finally asked, itching to close up for the night and head straight into the shower, maybe spend some quality time with this new, long legged, fresh addition to his spank bank.

Under Luke's curious gaze the kid went through a series of motions ranging from a small shrug, something pretty close to a smile and, in the end, running his hand through his hair, which forced Luke to shut his eyes for a second to stop himself from popping a hard-on on the spot.

“I feel like I should apologize in advance for asking this, but...” Sam slowly said, “you said you don't have any tattoos in visible places? Do you have tattoos?” His eyes were huge and dark in the shop's dim light, Luke's body hiding the bright lamp hanging above his drawing desk.

Luke caught the Sam's gaze and slowly let his smile spread into something more comfortable. “You want to see if I'm a professional?”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Do you have to have tattoos to be a professional?”

“Not really,” Luke shrugged, still smiling, “although there are customers who don't feel confident trusting tattoo artists who've never been under the needle.” His thumbs were resting on the edges of his pockets, ready to reach for the hem of his t-shirt in no time – after all, he did have a tattoo, even if it was a private one, and Sam really asked nicely – but he couldn't help poking the kid a bit more. Yup, there was a definite blush rising in the kid's cheeks, obvious to Luke's skilled eyes as if under bright daylight.

Sure as hell, the kid was at this point following Luke's every movement, something hungry and impatient growing visible in his eyes.

Luke hitched his thumb higher at his waist. “I have back piece. If you'd like to see it, by all means...” He took a few unhurried steps, enough to exit the space behind the tall counter and stand right in front of his blushing future customer. Luke let go of his t-shirt, relaxed his arms by his sides and stood upright, smiling right at the kid. “Go ahead.”

A small gasp escaped the kid's lips. Finally close enough to observe and without the need to hide his interest, Luke was even more aware of the kid's broad presence, of the way the few extra inches of height he had over Luke felt from this close. And damn, it felt good, even if slightly dampened by waves of uncertainty rolling off the kid. That hit completely different urges, deep inside Luke, ideas he'd long deemed forgotten, at least until he found someone cute enough to spark them out over again.

Luke let himself relax even further, standing still, inviting.

Breath by breath, Sam slowly closed the distance between them. His gaze was fixed on Luke's waist, on his hands which hung loose at his sides, offering free access – if Sam felt brave enough to take in up on his offer. A shy hand rose up to find Luke's belt, long fingers resting on his hip for a fraction of a second before sliding up to caress greedy skin underneath the dark cotton. As surprisingly warm fingers started up to catch the fabric, Luke felt his own breathing speeding up to match the kid's, clearly audible in the quiet of the shop. Sam's movement had brought them close enough to feel each other's warmth, but not close enough to touch their bodies together, not quite yet.

At that moment the kid brought his other hand up, too, and nudged Luke's t-shirt up with a curious sort of politeness that spread sheer delight through the inside of Luke's chest. He slowly raised his arms to clasp his hands behind his head, waiting with a smile, making it absolutely obvious he had no intention of helping the kid in his efforts.

Sam didn't seem to be in a rush, though, as he dragged his palms up Luke's sides, lifting the shirt along. Once he reached Luke's shoulders, he finally seemed to manage to peel his gaze off of Luke's skin and meet his eyes. The intensity of pure, unembarrassed lust in Sam's eyes made Luke's breath hitch a little and his fingers twitch, safely tucked away behind his head. All Luke had to do was incline his head a little and their lips met, warmth on warmth, soft sureness on the younger one's chapped dry skin. Sam's hands lingered underneath Luke's shoulders as they kissed, direction forgotten, intention lost. The kid kissed like he wasn't sure he was allowed to, receiving more than he offered, and Luke gave in to that sweet inexperience. He rolled his shoulders, suddenly feeling constricted by the remaining length of fabric around his neck. Sam seemed to get on board with Luke's efforts, helping him get out of the t-shirt, but he mostly focused on Luke's mouth, seeming unaware of other possibilities now that he was allowed complete access.

Luke didn't even bother to take note of where his t-shirt ended up when they tossed it aside, just used the inertia to grab the kid's shoulders and swing both their bodies around just so that the kid's butt ended up pressed tight against the counter. Sam got distracted by the change in location just enough to pull away from Luke's mouth and take a long, hard look at his face. “I don't...” he said, his voice hoarse, “I don't do this kind of thing with...”

“Strangers?” Luke smiled a bit, already reaching for the top layer of the kid's infinite, unhelpful amount of upper body clothing.

“Men,” Sam said solemnly, staring straight into Luke's eyes.

That did reach the still awake part of Luke's brain, somehow managing to circumvent the parts already lost in the kid's solid length pressed against his body. He leaned into the collar of Sam's shirt, trying to stop shudders slowly rising in his gut. “Oh, Sam,” he whispered, sliding his fingers into the kid's sleeves and gently tugging them down and off. Sam's breathing sped up even further, but he gave no signs of wanting to get away from Luke's touch. If anything, he leaned even closer into him. The soft, warm scent of young male filled Luke's lungs as the kid's movements brought Luke's lips closer to Sam's bare neck. “I'll make sure that, from now on, you'll want to.”

It was Sam's turn to shudder, having finally said what had probably been bothering him ever since he set foot in the shop. Luke felt warm arms wrap around his waist, climb across his back and finally rest on his shoulders as Luke's own hands carefully removed the rest of the kid's many layers. Stepping away just to get rid of Sam's undershirt, Luke was more than pleased to see that his pectoral muscles were, indeed, more than big enough to receive the exact size of the tattoo he'd sketched out for him earlier in the day. It had seemed it was a week, maybe a month before, though, as Luke instinctively slid his hands over Sam's solid front. The kid shivered beneath his touch.

“And here I was, thinking you were just a tattoo virgin,” he said, mostly to himself. Somehow, that still managed to get the kid smiling. He relaxed a bit under Luke's touch, but his arms never wavered, a firm presence on Luke's shoulder blades, above the tattoo the kid still had to see.

“I'm not a virgin,” Sam said with an impressive eyeroll that made him look even younger than he already was. Luke didn't even try to suppress a satisfied smirk.

“Sure you're not,” Luke purred and grazed his teeth across the dip of Sam's neck. As the kid's breaths became distractingly loud, Luke realized he should have done that ages ago. Maybe even before the kiss. If the way Sam's body pressed closer into his was anything to go on, maybe he should've done more, too.

At the first, contemplative bite into warm skin, Luke realized Sam's whole body went stiff. There was a noise in Luke's ears, something more than breathing, something coming suspiciously close to a moan.

He smiled into Sam's neck and bit deeper, this time drawing a louder, definite moan from the kid.  
Since talking seemed to be off the table, at least for the moment, Luke took in the rest of the signs – the kid's labored breathing, the way his erection pressed through worn denim against Luke's groin and the way Sam's whole upper body seemed to get warmer by the second – and slid his fingers around the kid's waist, firmly pressing into solid back muscle just above the rim of his jeans. He spared no effort to soften the pressure of his fingertips, making sure the kid knew exactly where this was heading, offering a chance to move away from the touch, from the intention, as obvious as if he'd stated it in a full, grammatically correct sentence.

Instead of backing off, the kid pressed closer into Luke's body, a hand sliding up to reach Luke's cropped hair, just avoiding the edges of Luke's back tattoo and not even knowing it, the other sliding down to press his fingertips in the exact same spot where Luke's fingers pressed on his own body. “Do that again,” Sam somehow managed to breathe out, even though his voice was muffled by Luke's shoulder, slowly grinding harder into him.

Luke bit Sam's neck again, a little lower, and pressed his fingers harder into the kid's spine through another, louder moan.

With the echo still ringing in his ears, now replaced by the kid's deep, shuddering breaths, Luke's free hand reached between their bodies to get rid of Sam's belt in two smooth moves. Sam's baggy pants obliged in an instant, sliding down along strong thighs and resting on their knees, tangled up together. Suddenly there was nothing that Luke hated more in the world than those pants, blocking access to the rest of the kid's long, firm body.

Giving Sam no time to change his mind, Luke reached behind his butt and lifted the kid's body up on the counter in one swift move. What Luke lacked in height he made up for in muscle, which, judging by a surprised and nothing short of delighted huff from the kid, Sam didn't manage to foresee. “Boots,” Luke said, distantly aware that it came out more like a command than intended. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind, not even a little bit. He reached down across Luke's legs to get rid of his shoes almost instantly and helped Luke drag the rest of his pants down not long after that.

“Are you gonna...?” Sam asked, after he'd resumed his position on the counter. He was blushing again, legs spread out and a bare cock looking than interested under Luke's curious gaze. The kid's long fingers lingered a bit on Luke's belt, a hint, nothing more, seemingly completely satisfied with whatever Luke decided to do next.

Luke's smile matched the kid's tone in its softness. He traced his fingers across Sam's thigh, drawing closer and closer to where his hands were itching to go. Judging by the way his mouth went wet just from looking at the kid's considerable length, his lips were a close second. “If you want. Last call for a rain check,” Luke added, reminded by the kid's shy smile that he had to be the responsible one in this encounter. Some of his past partners – scratch that, all of his past lovers – would've laughed themselves to the grave to see him like that.

“No,” said the kid, dead serious. “No rain checks.”

Luke took a deep breath. His fingers reached Sam's crotch and, with his whole body, he leaned closer, close enough to whisper in the kid's ear. “There's a drawer on the other side of the counter,” he said, caressing Sam's length with the outside of his palm, enjoying every tiny shudder that went through Sam's body. “Lube and condoms,” he added. “Would you please get them for me?”

“S-sure.” Sam somehow managed to reach behind his own back, blindly grabbing, holding himself steady by grasping at Luke's waist. Luke helped, leaning further into Sam to make his efforts to reach the drawer easier – which, in turn, didn't really help so much. Luke's steadily growing erection, still hidden inside his pants, seemed to finally distract the kid while being pressed against his own. Luke didn't bother hiding his smile, his gaze steady on Sam's blushed face as the kid turned back to look at him.

When Sam's fingers finally managed to pull the drawer open, Luke's fingers slid around Sam's cock, gentler than they'd be with any other partner, gentler, even, than on his own erection. Still, it was enough to completely draw the kid off track, his hand in the drawer twitching in thin air while Luke slowly dragged his hand up and down Sam's length. “What's up?” Luke asked innocently, “need a hand?”

To Luke's neverending surprise, the kid actually managed to get a grip on himself long enough to lean to the front and smile into Luke's shoulder while his hand was still tucked into that damn drawer. Talk about being tall.

The kid actually took out a handful of packets of condoms and lube and hastily dropped them on the counter before bringing his hand back into Luke's hair. Once he'd started stroking Sam's cock, Luke had no intention of stopping and he was more than happy to note the way Sam's whole body rocked with the movements of his hand. Sam kissed him once more, his turn to take over, and Luke happily gave in, never faltering in the sure way he was stroking him while they kissed.

“Pants,” the kid said, drawing back for a second, “pants, Luke. Now.”

Luke hummed and unclasped his pants with his free hand, trusting the kid enough not to break them apart while both of Luke's hands where occupied. “I love the way you say my name,” he smiled, dropping his pants to the floor and making space for Sam to push his boxers down, too.

Luke stepped out of the rest of this clothes and met the kid's gaze. Aware of the attention, he slowed his hand down a bit, letting the kid relax – if that was even possible, the way he was already panting – and stood still long enough for Sam to take in what he was now free to look at.

“You're not small,” the kid said shortly, his tone revealing nothing in particular, just... observing.

“Is that a problem?” Luke felt inclined to ask, unable to forget that this was, indeed, a first time in a  
way for Sam – maybe more than one.

“Is it?” Sam asked in return, now looking straight into Luke's eyes, calm for a moment.

“Not if a guy knows what he's doing,” Luke answered truthfully, letting his thumb slide over the tip of Sam's cock, gentle, but firm. “And most definitely not if the other person is open about the sensations they go through.” Luke smiled a bit at the way Sam's eyebrows drew down with a hint of confusion. “If it hurts – if it hurts in a bad way – you have to tell me,” Luke explained. “I'm not saying it's not gonna hurt, but I take it you already knew that?” When the kid nodded, seeming more sure of himself, Luke clasped his fingers around Sam's cock once more. “Just talk to me and I'll compensate.”

Sam actually laughed a little at that, his breath warm on Luke's skin.

“What?” Luke asked, feeling a strange sense of fondness at the kid's expression.

“You make it sound so practical,” Sam said, and Luke joined in with a big smile of his own.

“There's no reason for it not to be,” he shrugged.

“So, you do what you... what you're gonna do, and I let you know if something seems... off?” Sam's forehead relaxed a bit more.

“Yes,” Luke said firmly and resumed stroking Sam's cock with a slight increase in speed. The kid didn't seem to mind, not even a little bit.

It took all Luke had not to bring Sam over the edge right there and right then, but he didn't trust himself not to get lost in the eager receptiveness of the kid's body. Luke slowed down his strokes, gradually, making sure not to bring the kid back from whatever high he was climbing to, wrapped in Luke's arms. Luke grabbed the closest package – lube, thank goodness – and ripped it open with his teeth.

Somewhere in the past couple of minutes Sam had apparently lost his controlling gaze over everything that was happening because he jerked back at the first touch of Luke's slick fingers against his hole.

“Ssshhh,” Luke said gently, his face resting just above the bruise he bit into Sam's neck not so long ago. “Just relax. I've got you.”

With a breath so deep Luke wondered how the hell he didn't pass out, Sam nodded and did as told, slowly pushing out with his body instead of in, letting Luke's fingers slide past his rim and deeper into his tight heat. Luke enjoyed every second of feeling out the kid's body from the inside, adding another finger, then another, smiling a bit when Sam started holding onto Luke's back like he would drown if it weren't for Luke's steadiness against his own tense anticipation.

It didn't take long for Luke to sense Sam was as ready as he could be, and if Luke continued further, he would only make him oversensitive anyway. The fact that his own cock had started to grow impatient, neglected for so long because the kid could only concentrate on so much, urged Luke even further.

He picked out a condom from the pile on the counter and nudged at the kid with his chin. “Sam? I'm gonna need your help on this, are you with me?” he asked, lowering his head to look into the kid's eyes, heavy and lidded from Luke's efforts.

“...sure,” Sam answered and, after a few moments, took the condom out of Luke's hand. It didn't take him half as long as Luke had expected to roll the latex onto Luke's erection, and when Sam was done, he even gave it an experimental tug, drawing a muted moan from Luke's throat. The kid even managed to smile a little at that, a deep warmth obvious in his eyes even through all the haze. “Ready when you are,” he said.

Luke really didn't need much more to get him going.

The first inch of his cock barely made it in before Sam started shuddering, his legs going up to wrap around Luke's waist and holding for dear life. “Just relax,” Luke said again, softly, and let go of Sam's cock for a second, giving him the space he needed to adjust to the new sensation. “If it's... easier for you, you can tell me how it feels,” he added.

“I really... can't concentrate,” the kid panted as Luke slid further inside his body. “Could you maybe... bite me... again?”

“Sure thing.” He found the closest muscle to his lips – the kid's upper arm – and sunk his teeth into the warm skin.

Sam moaned and relaxed a bit more, letting Luke's cock deeper inside, drawing him further in by the strong grip of his legs on Luke's lower back.

Luke bit him again, this time on the shoulder, and it was all it took for Sam to take him all the way in.  
“Luke, I'm gonna... I'm gonna...” the kid gasped. Luke quickly grabbed the base of Sam's swollen cock and squeezed, not gently, but not strong enough to cause pain.

“Not yet,” he snarled and pushed further, leaning his whole weight into Sam's body. “Just a bit longer, when you come... ah... it hurts more,” he said, slowly starting to drag himself out, not far, just enough to feel the friction deep inside Sam's heat.

“I don't care,” Sam said, breathless, his lips suddenly close to Luke's ear. The next thing he felt was a warm tingle of Sam's tongue flicking just underneath his ear, and then lower, as Sam dragged a lick all the way down Luke's neck. Luke had started to build a rhythm, rocking their joined bodies together in smooth, short motions, but the kid's mouth on his skin wrecked his attention and he pushed deeper into him, harder then he would've dared if Sam hadn't distracted him with his tongue.

Sam didn't seem to mind at all, though, moaning harder, the hand that wasn't buried in Luke's short hair urgently sliding down to join Luke's fingers on his cock. Sam breath was warm on Luke's neck as his lips returned to Luke's ear, the heavy panting enough to shatter Luke's best attempts at control. “Please...” Sam whispered, his voice broken, his fingers alongside Luke's on his cock strong in their grip, “harder, Luke, please... let me come...”

Somehow, Luke managed to find his voice and squeeze his hand around the kid's cock, his hips thrusting into Sam's ass even harder as the kid gasped in his ear. “Only if you... promise you won't... pass out on me, kid,” he said, drawing Sam's body even closer to him with his free hand, never stopping his thrusts, white pain curling in his balls, waiting to be released.

At his words, Sam gripped the back of Luke's neck harder than it should've been possible, in the middle of everything, and his hoarse whisper went directly to Luke's cock, “Promise...”

Luke shuddered and finally, finally gave in, not caring anymore if he thrust too hard, if his fingers left bruises on the Sam's soft skin, if he made an idiot of himself by getting lost in sex like a teenager; he finally let go.

One, two, three smooth, barely coordinated strokes were enough to drag Sam over the edge, and when he started shooting warm spurts of come all over their joined bodies, Luke felt his own release spill inside Sam's body, pulsing out of his veins and taking all of his self-control along for the ride.

He barely managed to grab the counter's edge with his hands to hold himself steady as he came, as he continued coming, as Sam spasmed around hims, still holding onto Luke even though he was way past gone.

Their breaths got mixed between them as they both came down from their climax, way too slow, blood rushing through their ears. Luke's head was a bit dizzy as he felt Sam's warm, warm fingers stroking down his spine, right across the tattoo he didn't manage to see before all of... this, even though the tattoo was sort of the incentive for this whole thing, at least as close to one as the kid had managed to bring out.

“I should really take care of... stuff,” Luke said, doing his best not to give in completely underneath Sam's distracted, relaxed caresses like he was a damn kid himself.

“Sure,” Sam said, his voice surprisingly soft and warm. “And you should really let me see your tattoo,” he added lazily, making Luke smile against his skin, wide. “I'm sure the reflection I'm looking at right now doesn't give it justice.”

The hint of a dare in Sam's voice was enough to cool Luke down faster then he wanted to cool down, making him jerk his head up and glance behind his own shoulder – right in the middle of his shop's huge front window, visible to the whole street, in front of which he'd just had one of the best orgasms of his whole damn life. “Fuck,” he said, and then started laughing, feeling his whole body shudder with the feeling, unable to stop. “I'm never getting customers again,” he moaned, more than aware of Sam's soft chuckle joining in his own laughter.

“Oh, I think you might have a... surge in visitor interest, after this. Now everyone will know how well you treat your customers.”

Luke looked up at the kid's smiling eyes and felt something skip inside his chest, something almost... unfamiliar. It had been a while since he last remembered feeling like that. Even though, blissed out as he was, he couldn't exactly remember feeling quite like this for a very, very long time. “I'm gonna have to disinfect the whole shop,” Luke bitched again, not ready to give into the feeling, not yet.

“The counter should be enough,” Sam said, his eyes smiling deeper. “Unless you'd like to take this somewhere else? The sofa looks comfortable...” he offered. 

Luke just shook his head, unable to supress a smile. “If I'd known a good orgasm was all it took to get your head out of your ass, I would've taken care of it the moment you stepped into my shop,” he said, letting his own smirk show the kid exactly what he thought of his ass. He obviously got his message across, though, because Sam's breath hitched and said ass twitched involuntarily, reminding Luke just how he'd left things not minutes ago. He sighed. “What I'd actually like is to buy you a drink. Or three. There's a bar down the road... not really crowded, this early on a school night. You college kids somehow keep not discovering it, year after year.”

Luke's gaze found Sam's and the kid smiled. “Just tell me you have a bathroom around here and I'm in,” the kid answered and Luke laughed again.

*

Getting separated in between the come and the sweat and the warmth neither of them really wanted to let go of took longer than it should have, but when they were done, they took turns in the shop's small, squeaky clean bathroom and got dressed again.

Meaning, Sam got dressed all the way up to his infinite number of layers while Luke lazily dragged his bottoms back up, leaving his shirt off for a little while longer. He owed it to the kid, after all, and he really wasn't the kind of guy to let his promises go unfulfilled – even if he was the kind of person to introduce a college kid, a complete stranger, into anal sex on his own tattoo shop's counter while the windows kept them completely exposed to the rest of the world.

When Sam came out of the bathroom, looking composed and back in control of himself, Luke was standing with his back turned to the wall, contemplating the view over the deserted street and thinking about curtains. A serious amount of curtains.

“Wow,” Sam said from behind him.

Luke turned his head around. He slowly smiled at Sam's wide eyes. “You like her?” he asked.

“It's... she's different than anything I've ever seen,” the kid answered.

Luke smiled wider, feeling a bit nostalgic now when he'd managed to come back down from, well, coming. “The design is based off an old sketch. My mentor Meg did it, over in San Francisco.” He waited for a second, enjoying the way Sam's eyes lingered on the bold lines drawn in Luke's skin years ago, the Native American girl looking as fresh, caught in the middle of her dance, as she did when the ink was barely months old. “It's my only tattoo,” Luke somehow felt inclined to add, something he didn't often share with people whom he'd barely known for a day. Hell, less than a day. “Someday, when it feels right, I'll go on with the ink. For now...” he just shrugged.

“It's beautiful,” Sam said and slowly stepped closer to Luke. After locking eyes with him to make sure it was okay – even after what had happened between them earlier, was this kid even real? – Sam lifted his arm and gently touched Luke's back, spreading his fingers over the tattoo, obviously at a loss of words.

Luke rolled his shoulders deliberately and his smile deepened at the way Sam's lips spread open, watching every move of every muscle in Luke's back. “We'll never get to those drinks if you keep looking at me like that,” Luke poked, rolling his shoulders again.

“It's not my fault you look like that,” Sam poked right back, smiling. He took another hard look at Luke's back, stroked one long finger down his spine and finally stepped back, letting Luke go.

Which was good, considering he wasn't nearly young enough to go at it again that soon, no matter the way the kid's attention drilled right through his muscle and bone and straight into his blood. “Let's go,” Sam said, grabbing Luke's long forgotten t-shirt off the floor where it had apparently landed ages ago and offering it to Luke.“Tell me more about the tattoo over beer?”

“If you don't mind telling me a bit about your mom,” Luke replied easily, dragging his t-shirt back on, trying to remember in what pocket he'd left his keys when he first came to the shop earlier today. And to remember was supposed to be just an ordinary, uneventful Monday. “I love to know what I'm tattooing,” he added when he saw the way Sam's eyes softened a bit at his request. “If it's not... too much.”

“Not at all,” Sam smiled, a gentle little smile that somehow seemed even more genuine for the fact it was reserved. “I would love to tell you all about her.”


End file.
